


Habits of Adolescent Ostriches

by thatfangirl



Category: Bring It On (2000)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-23
Updated: 2005-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfangirl/pseuds/thatfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Torrance keeps her head in the sand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Habits of Adolescent Ostriches

**Author's Note:**

> _Bring It On_ belongs to Universal Studios. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.

It wasn't that Torrance didn't notice things, it was just that she ignored them. So Big Red had never seemed capable of creating those routines. So Cliff had met a cuter blonde who actually knew who the Clash was. Torrance was good at ignoring things, and currently she was industriously peeling the label from her empty bottle while Missy, perched beside her on the picnic table, nursed her own beer.

"Sign of sexual frustration, that," Missy said, jerking her chin at the pile of shredded paper Torrance had amassed.

Now Torrance was ignoring the urge to say _I think your brother's cheating on me_ and _I don't think it bothers me as much as it should_. "Are you insulting Cliff's virility?" she asked instead. Missy snorted and stared into the trees that lent an approximation of privacy to the backyard; they seemed impenetrable in the half-light seeping through the sliding glass door. Torrance bumped her shoulder. "You didn't tell me why you quit the squad."

Missy shrugged and finished her beer, handing it to Torrance. "All the cool kids graduated."

"Was that a compliment?"

"I meant Les."

"Ouch," Torrance muttered, tearing a strip off the bottle and ripping it into quarters. She heard Missy reach into the cooler and open another beer. "I think Cliff's cheating on me."

Missy's bottle thudded against the table. "That stupid son of a bitch. I could kick his ass for you," she offered without a hint of levity.

Torrance ripped the last of the label free and glanced up. "I'm probably just being paranoid."

"He shouldn't give you the opportunity to be. I would never—" She took a swallow of beer. "I'd never do that to the person I cared about."

So Missy cared about her more than she was supposed to. Torrance was good at ignoring that, too. "I know."

"Do you?" Missy asked wistfully, and Torrance realized that she was drunker than she had been letting on.

Torrance shivered and pushed off the table. "I'm going to grab my hoodie," she said, not looking at Missy, but hearing the table creak as she stood.

"Stay here, I'll get it," Missy said, wrapping her fingers around Torrance's wrist before jogging to the back door and disappearing inside the house.

Torrance sighed and sat back down, absent-mindedly rubbing her wrist. She tossed the empty bottles into the trees and heard them clank against the hidden fence before dropping to the ground. One thing she had never noticed was that she cared for Missy more than she was supposed to, too.


End file.
